Sondra Radvanovsky’s got a dancer’s grace (‘tho she stands almost 6-feet-tall) and a resonant voice that polishes-off the meatiest Verdi roles with rich, vibrant color. At (barely) 40-years-old, the American soprano has already racked-up premieres at the world’s most recognizable opera houses, collaborated with a smattering of the first class conductors (Gianandrea Noseda, Nicola Luisotti, Patrick Fournillier, and Fabio Luisi) and has worked  closely with prominent opera directors (Robert Carsen, David McVicar — and even William Friedkin).

You’re one of the top Verdi sopranos singing today — let’s talk about Verdi’s women: Which of his roles fit you best? Which roles do you have trouble slipping into? 

“Vocally, Trovatore’s Leonora is a good fit, and since I’ve sung it hundreds of times it’s very secure for me. I respect the versatility of the vocal writing, and love that she has a chance to sing every dynamic. Dramatically, I feel that I’ve expanded the role. Leonora is sometimes depicted as a wilting, wall-flower type, but here you have a character that’s going to give up her life for someone else, and that’s a fairly big thing – she’s got to have guts, and she needs to be impetuous, spirited, and passionate. So for David McVicar’s Il Trovatore at The Metropolitan Opera, we made Leonora young and vibrant, and since that matches my personality rather well, it’s a role I savor. Luisa Miller is another Verdi role that I’ve really enjoyed. Vocally I might be a bit past it, but I think she’s a fabulous character. For various reasons, the role I have difficulties slipping into is Elvira in Ernani. She’s just not a complete character; it’s a bit archaic, somewhat unrealistic, and vocally, it’s not a well-composed opera. And I find the premise unrealistic because in the modern era, Elvira would run off with the king! Why wouldn’t she? He’s rich, nominally handsome, and powerful – it’s a no-brainer!”

Trovatore is a hellish, difficult work to conduct. We’ve heard gorgeously elegant and dignified versions from Giulini and Gatti, but sometimes the interpretation can border on campy or bombastic — there’s an undecurrent of vulgarity often hiding underneath the surface. You’ve already sung Trovatore at Covent Garden with Carlo Rizzi, and at The Metropolitan Opera with Gianandrea Noseda, while you have your Leonora San Francisco Opera debut coming up with Nicola Luisotti. Are there any conductors you’d like to work with on Trovatore that you haven’t yet had the opportunity, or ones that you’d collaborate with again? 

“I’ve had nothing short of fabulous experiences with all the conductors I’ve had the pleasure of working with, but Fabio Luisi is one of my favorites, and he’s really a lovely person to work with. He’s so knowledgeable of the scores, and he can handle repertoire in any language. I collaborated with him in 2005 for the Robert Carsen production of Trovatore in Bregenz, but in the end, it was a “virtual” collaboration due to inclement weather, as I had to take his leads on a video transmission from beneath the orchestra pit. So it would be a true privilege to do a proper Trovatore with him.”

You’ve already sung in various stagings of Trovatore. Lately you’ve been working with David McVicar’s new and very well-received production of the Verdi opera, which will premiere at the San Francisco Opera next month. What were the main elements of McVicar’s production that made it so successful? 

“McVicar was really thinking outside of the box for this production. Overall, the darkness of the staging was appropriate because Trovatore is thematically a dark opera. The turntable element was integral in propelling the action, and really worked in illuminating and congealing the narrative. Trovatore is sometimes susceptible to becoming stilted because sometimes you don’t realize the relationships that you can’t see. McVicar also gave us room to develop each role by pushing us to explore, which is sometimes difficult for singers to always remember after singing the roles so many times. He didn’t settle for generic readings of each character, because it’s just so easy to fall back on the expected, trademarked version of each stamped-out character. But he demanded so much more, which made it young, invigorating, and exciting.”

Are there certain Verdi librettists that you favor more than others? 

“Arrigo Boito works well because he’s so conversational, and his libretti read more like how one speaks in real life. With works like Falstaff and Otello, his libretti make sense in a theatrical sense because it keeps the action moving.”

One of Verdi’s main thrusts of Trovatore is that of destiny. How much do you believe in destiny?

“When you look at opera, you discover that destiny was interwoven into many of the plots, so to say one believes in destiny isn’t unusual. I’m quite metaphysical, and when I reflect on the career I’ve had, I like to believe that there’s a system of higher guidance. I’ve had numerous roadblocks throughout my path and yet I am still here singing, and I have a life that I could have only dreamed of. Meeting my husband was truly fateful. He grounded me and changed my life for the better. My career has built slowly throughout the years, and he’s been there for me every step of the way.”

Very soon you’ll be singing in the premiere of Trovatore at the San Francisco Opera — where Nicola Luisotti takes the podium for the first time as the new Music Director — I’m assuming you’ll have a few opening galas to attend. Do you have any go-to designers that you prefer?

“I don’t have a single go-to designer, so I keep my eye on different collections each season. I like Escada, Carolina Herrera, Donna Karan, and Max Mara, but I have yet to find a designer that is an exact reflection of my style. I prefer designs with structure and tailoring because as an opera singer inches shy of 6-feet-tall, it’s harder to embrace some of the more conceptual designs like Prada or Yves Saint Laurent. Also, I’ve just turned 40 so my personal style as a woman is evolving, and it’s more important to find a style that’s fun yet elegant. But regardless of which designer I’m using, I look for something that makes a statement when I walk on the stage, because you have a visual aspect to satisfy in addition to the audio aspect.”

Following the same thought, the opera industry has become so high-maintenance and image conscious. Do you follow a workout regime or any special diets to keep in shape? Yoga? Pilates?

“I like to stay active, which usually means finding a gym in whichever city I’m visiting. I have trainers, I do cardio, and I like yoga and Pilates. But fitness for me isn’t necessarily about fitting into those designer dresses. Rather, my body is my instrument. I keep in shape for my own well-being, and understand the importance of keeping in shape to supplement my voice.”

You’ve sung with colleague Dmitri Hvorostovsky many times before — particularly his Count di Luna to your Leonora in Verdi’s Trovatore – and you’ll be singing with him again in the September San Francisco Trovatore premiere.  What’s the vocal and physical dynamic between the two of you? How important do you think it is for the singers to gel?

“We’re like brother and sister: we argue, we bicker, we laugh, and we even prank each other! Our playful dynamic makes for great chemistry on stage. Vocally, our voices really blend well because we both have a very dark, Slavic sound. The most wonderful aspect of our intensity is that it never feels like I’m working when I’m with Dmitri. He’s simply an amazing artist with an incredible voice and natural, on-stage talent.”

You have a Verdi Duets album with Dmitri Hvorostovsky and a solo album of Verdi arias, both which are going to drop this season. Give us the details! What’s your favorite track?

“The Duets CD is a live concert from last June at the Conservatorio in Moscow where Dmitri and I sang a program of all-Verdi arias and duets. It was quite a memorable concert because not only was it the first time that I had met Dmitri, but it was also the first time I had ever sung with him. The chemistry on stage was incredible – it was like electricity had filled the hall. And Dmitri’s voice was so sublime that I just wanted to stand there and listen to him sing! One of my favorite selections from the concert was the Simon Boccanegra duet: It was the first time I sang that duet, and the way that Dmitri caressed each line was beyond beautiful.”

As a coloratura soprano/lirico spinto, is there a role you’d love to sing, regardless of the fact that it’s not written for your voice? For example: Norma? 

“There have been two predominant roles that influenced me from an early age. The first is Tosca, which I heard at eleven years old with Eva Marton and Plácido Domingo, and Puccini’s work had so much resonance with me, that I credited it with my decision to become an opera singer. The second role is Norma. As a devoted admirer of Maria Callas, I believed Norma was the pinnacle of a soprano’s career. Of course, there are many more, but I’m satisfied that my voice is growing into the repertoire that I’ve always dreamed of singing.”

Did anyone ever give you stellar piece of advice that you still conjure up to help you through difficult aspects of performing? 

“Abundant advice — unfortunately both good and bad — but I always let the bad advice roll off my back, while the good advice has fortunately remained with me for many years. An adage from my coach, Tony Manoli, who I have been with for over 15 years is: ‘There is a difference between temperament and just being tight in your body…temperament is MUCH better!’ But my favorite maxim was from my voice teacher in Santa Barbara , Martial Singher, who said: ‘Never louder than lovely.’”

Yet another anonymous user admonished me for a recent post of Angela Meade being interviewed about why she loves singing “Casta Diva.” I wanted to use this as an opportunity to discuss the relationship singers have with certain characters and music. Why does a singer choose a song or a character? The most intelligent and passionate singers can speak eloquently about what drives their choices. I posted an interview with Renee Fleming on singing the Marschallin in “Der Rosenkavalier,” and why she adores this part. Ms. Fleming stated that it was the universality of time and the Marschallin’s awareness of how quickly it moves, that spoke to her personally as a woman. That’s the sort of response I would expect from a great artist in a high-profile interview.

Nonetheless, this user admonished me for “hating on” (an expression that needs to be retired today) Ms. Meade for “answering questions in an interview.” This statement was not only woefully glib, but inaccurate as well. Clearly this user missed the whole point of my article. I wanted to know what, specifically, in the text, gave Meade a “special connection” with the aria as she had stated. She simply rattled off a list of her favorite singers and claimed she really didn’t know why she felt a connection with the aria. There didn’t seem to be much to justify her “special connection” to this famous aria and I was disappointed by this.

Furthermore, the user challenged me to list the rep that I sing (despite the fact that I’m not a singer) and “enlighten” my followers with the “profound connection” I have to my choices. This is exactly the kind of nasty, unnecessary vitriol that needs to stop. I have absolutely nothing to do with Ms. Meade, which is what makes this user’s rants so exasperating. I, at NO point, mentioned or implied my superiority to Ms. Meade, because that would be beyond ludicrous. I am simply a critic offering my viewpoint. I am not a rising international opera star singing a bel canto staple as my calling-card.

This user also seemed to miss the fact that I praised Ms. Meade’s singing and said that “fine things were headed her way.” It’s time we all grew up and started engaging in intelligent discussions, not knee-jerk personal attacks just because we disagree with a person’s point of view.

What an exquisite instrument! She has fine things headed her way. But I’d ask her to dig deeper with her connection to “Casta Diva.” Liking Montserrat Caballé is not a good reason for singing an aria, much less claiming a profound connection with it. What specifically, in the text, resonates with her? Is she even aware of what she is singing about? She seems more concerned with other singers and her coloratura. This is approaching music from the outside in.

This reminds me of a Master Class I attended, taught by James Levine, who said, “When choosing a piece of music to sing, start with the text first. If you connect with the text, you’ll connect with the music and be able to make it your own.”

Cecilia Bartoli is, perhaps, the one case of an artist who I could listen to all day and never ever watch. Her voice is distinctive, you recognize it instantly. Vocal connoisseurs who believe that Ms. Bartoli has no business singing could point to rough patches and indistinct passagework in her performances to validate their opinion…the mere mention of her name in a conservatory would send waves of retribution in your general direction.

Many bemoan the loss of “Big Voices” or the loss of true “Bel-Canto” singing (whatever that really means), but I bemoan the dearth of distinctive voices and unique artistry, be it a lyric voice or the largest Wagnerian voice ever heard.

Her mezzo-soprano voice, of course, is not large. But every singer who has resorted to bellowing for fear of not projecting should report to Ms. Bartoli for a lesson. She understands that half the battle of being heard involves drawing listeners in. Her tone is focused; her rhythmic execution is crisp; her delivery of the Italian words, for which she always finds beautifully appropriate vocal colors, is a marvel. There is definitely enchantment afoot when she sings, even if it’s not a voice teacher’s idea of the benevolent order.

Most singers move through their songs as if working their way through a checklist (Diction? Check. Legato? Check), Ms. Bartoli makes music come to life. Despite the occasional stridency in her tone, or her willingness to sacrifice beauty for expression, something compelling is always happening in her singing.

I emphasize the word “listen” because, in performance, she can be bizarre, almost comical, without meaning to be. It’s those eyebrows: they jump, they ungulate, they do Sudoku puzzles. It can be distracting or downright hilarious to watch.

But Ms. Bartoli’s vocal artistry is hardly objectionable. I must admit, I’m not really a fan of the repertoire she specializes in (the early to late Baroque era), but I deeply respect her decision (as an artist) to champion little-known works and composers.

However, her tribute to Maria Malibran and her studio recording of Bellini’s “Sonnambula” are among the favorites of my CD collection. Her “Casta Diva” is a prime example of her appeal.

For sheer sonic perfection, there have been other singers who’ve impressed with this Bel-Canto staple. But “Casta Diva” is actually an intimate prayer in the context of the opera “Norma.” Ms. Bartoli treats the aria as such.

In the hushed pianissimo passages when Norma summons a moment of prayer, she creates vocal magic, imbuing lines with spectral colorings, shaping the arching phrases with rich sound and lyrical suppleness. Her earthy, subdued expressivity gives the aria a more intimate feel. It’s not a diva showpiece, but rather a quiet moment of introspection.

Will Ms. Bartoli ever be a great Norma? No. Would she ever get away singing this way at the Metropolitan Opera? Probably not. But this is beside the point. Ms. Bartoli has always valued expressive nuances and impetuosity over flawless execution and vocal perfection. More importantly, she makes something happen.

The soprano Renée Fleming has decided that “Norma” is not in her future.

Ms. Fleming had planned to portray the Druid priestess of the title at the Metropolitan Opera in the 2011-12 season, with several other engagements leading up to those performances. But after studying the role she realized it “wasn’t a fit,” a spokeswoman said yesterday.

“She came to the conclusion it was not something she wanted to live with,” said the spokeswoman, Mary Lou Falcone. “It was just the overall feeling. It’s one thing to sing it. It’s another thing to bring the drama to it. At the end of the day, the decision was: ‘This is just not for me. There’s a lot of other repertoire to do.’”

Ms. Falcone said Ms. Fleming would not be interviewed about the decision.

Bellini’s Norma is one of the most demanding soprano roles and has been the province of prominent divas, including Maria Callas and Joan Sutherland. It has long, florid lines filled with difficult ornamentation, requires great endurance and calls for emotional intensity.

In the past Ms. Fleming has not flinched from backing out of operas when she feels she is not ready. That happened with “La Traviata” at the Met in 2000, although she came back to sing it as recently as this season. She has ruled out “Norma” indefinitely, Ms. Falcone said.

Peter Gelb, the Met’s general manager, said: “She’s a highly intelligent and gifted artist who weighs decisions carefully and wants to perform at her best. The problem is with singers who go forward with projects they shouldn’t do.”

Mr. Gelb said “Norma” was to have been directed by Robert Wilson but was never formally scheduled. The house, he added, would find another vehicle for Ms. Fleming that season.

She was also expected to sing a concert version of the opera at Tanglewood Music Center three years ago, but instead performed in Tchaikovsky’s “Eugene Onegin,” as was reported by The Associated Press.